Realization
by wolkenfuehlen
Summary: What happens when one night changes your whole life? Sequel to "Reality". RyderWill (Slash). Will POV.


**Realization**

**Pairing: **Will/Ryder, Will POV  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Author's note:** A follow-up to "Reality", so you might want to read that one first. This is hugely out of character, but, as a lovely person pointed out, "who cares?" :) A big thank you to Nicky for motivating me to write this and for helping me with it. Love you.

* * *

As I come to his room the following night, the door is open. He knew that I would be coming and I knew that he would be waiting. I enter the dark room and close the door behind me. He is standing by the open window, an unlit cigarette in his hand. The moon is shining outside and I can make out his profile in the dark. I'm sure he must have heard me, but he doesn't acknowledge me and continues to stare out of the window. This is a side of him that I have never seen before: a thoughtful young man who is confused and doesn't know what to do. He doesn't need to tell me how he feels. I feel the same way. He's scared, maybe even more than I am. He's confused and completely overwhelmed by the fact that he is the one that has to decide what to do now.  
I move closer until I stand in front of him. He turns his head to look at me, but as our eyes meet he quickly turns away again. I don't know what to do, what to say. What do you say to the person that changed your whole life with one single action, one single kiss? I don't know. I'm supposed to be smart, I'm supposed to always know the right things to say. How come I can't think of anything that I could say to him, anything that would make this whole situation easier?  
He was not just any guy. He was my enemy. I was supposed to hate him, and I did, until the moment our lips crushed together only a day ago.  
I realize that I must've been standing beside him for quite a while now. I still don't have the perfect things to say. Maybe I don't have to say anything after all. I lightly brush my hand over his. As if acting on instict, he quickly pulls away, letting the cigarette he'd been holding the whole time fall to the ground, unnoticed. He stares at his hand, then at me. He's sorry, I can see it in his eyes. He's sorry for pulling away, he's sorry for not being able to talk about it. My eyes not leaving his, I touch his hand again and can't help smiling a little as I feel his hand enclosing mine. He thinks I won't notice it in the dark as he smiles softly, for a moment forgetting our complicated situation. Then, the smile is gone.  
"What now?" he asks, a voice I have heard a thousand times before, but that sounds surprisingly unfamiliar. Is this really the person that I hated for so long? I can't tell anymore. I don't have an answer to his question. _What now?_ Why am I the one who has to answer that?  
"I'm scared," I say, knowing that he feels the same way but would never admit it. I try my best to tell him that I know and understand it, _him_. He lightly squeezes my hand. He knows.  
I close the small distance between us and the last thing I feel before our lips meet for the second time is his hand entangled in my hair, pulling me closer. This kiss is so different from our first one. It's not just a short touching of lips. We both want more than that. It's more, it's our way of corresponding, of telling each other how we feel.  
I let him deepen the kiss as we move from our spot by the window over to the bed. This is where I want to stay for the rest of my life, on his bed, in his arms, kissing him and knowing that he wants all this as much as I do. Eventually, we break apart, both out of breath. I lie down next to him and he immediately puts his arms around me and pulls me as close as possible. This is the beginning, I tell myself. It's the beginning of something wonderful and although we both don't dare saying it out loud, we know that _we_ are this wonderful thing.  
I listen to his breathing and feel his heartbeat. And in this moment, I'm happy, I finally have what I wanted, someone who is different, _better_ than all the others. I wonder how my friends would react if they could see me now, lying in his arms and being completely satisfied with my life for the first time in a very long time. They'd probably hate me, not because it's a guy but because it's this guy. The guy that will only use me for amusement until a better person comes along. The guy that is not able to love or to show affection. Lying in his arms, I can't help thinking how wrong they are.  
He moves over to me and softly presses his lips to my cheek. He pulls away a little, but I can still feel his breath against my cheek as he speaks.  
"What about your friends?" He's scared, I can hear it. He's scared that if I had to choose, I'd choose my friends over him, if they'd make me choose, I'd leave him. Still, I smile a little as I notice we both have been thinking about the same thing. I turn my head and softly press my lips to his.  
"Don't worry about them." I whisper against his lips. I don't want to destroy what we have right now, I don't want to make this whole situation even more complicated by telling them. Eventually, I'll have to tell them, but not yet.  
He pulls me closer to him and I let him, wanting to be as close to him as possible before I have to leave this perfect place again, his room, his bed, his arms. I don't want to think about leaving, I want to enjoy this moment, this night, knowing that I will spend many more here. In his arms, I feel loved, no matter what my friends might say. They're not here right now. It's just him, me and the night. 

**The End**


End file.
